To Have and To Hold Til Death Us Do Part
by HeathyrFeathyr
Summary: Sir Guy of Gisborne finds himself as a pawn to the Sheriff, this time being forced into an arranged marriage for the benefit of the war. The pair are too different stand each other, but can he ever grow to love his new wife, and can she learn to tolerate him and his ways? And how far will Robin go to save an innocent girl from the arms of a not-so-innocent man? Reviews appreciated!
1. A Thing for Brunettes

Vesey was split in a cacophony of indecision. His brain did not have the matter to decide which could be worse: England's rebellion over the inauguration of Prince John or the pressing Saracen troops edging ever closer and ever heavier to his country's border. Both, he had concluded over the past few sleepless nights, were inevitable. The Sheriff of Nottingham melted away his underlying worry with a sinister grin. His pudgy knuckles popped as he resituated himself in the wooden chair at the table. The cellophane honey he spoke was little trouble if his plan paid off.

"I mean, what have you to lose, my friend, hm? Your superior army organized across these lands, our trade routes booming! The heart of England forever in the debt of your country." He batted his eyelashes across the mahogany furniture. The deep brown eyes of the Italian leader wandered around the room as he pondered each sugar coated promise Nottingham had just offered him. The foreign representative placed his olive toned hands flat to the table, the firmness of his strength highlighted.

"I fear that is not enough, Sheriff Vesey," he replied, "What is to keep you from taking advantage of my generosity? Frankly, I do not trust you. What is in it for me if I lend you my troops to lose their blood for your cause?"

"Yes, well…" the moment ignited a furnace that boiled the back of his neck before Vesey was recollected.

"No offense, my good man, but times are hard."

"Of course, England is no different than Italy in that sense… what is it you want?" The Sherriff directly questioned, his eyes smoldering with a passionate curiosity as he leaned over the edge of the table. His guest feigned a hesitation of thought.

"My daughter. She is old enough to marry, but not humble enough for a suitor. I propose an arrangement."

"Arrangement?"

"My daughter is to marry your son, keep the blood of Italy pumping in England, in return for my soldiers at your limited disposal."

"Well, you see, I don't have a so- hang on a minute… yes. Yes, I think this could work out wonderfully… do tell me about this daughter of yours."

Underneath the soil and stone of Nottingham castle there was not a soul who was capable of acting out a drop of gratitude or any smile, for that matter, for here were the recesses of darkness and despair. Within the dank and musty dungeon sat no need for any formalities. Whether the imprisoned were innocent or not, they were treated the same; as scum lit only by orange ribbons from mounted torches along the molding walls. Newcomers harbored utter cowardice in their eyes before the torturer, Sir Guy of Gisborne, but those already maimed with his signature held only contempt. As the most feared man in Nottingham emerged from the hellhole he had helped create, he discovered his superior picking stubbed fingernails just outside the door.

"Ah, Gisborne, hard at work, eh?" Vesey rocked his weight from his heels to his toes with a smirk Guy instinctively crawled from.

"Let's just say Nettlestone will be sure to be caught up on taxes next time." His baritone voice hummed.

"Good. Well, my dear Gisborne, I have a bit of a gift for you. After all, you have been getting those gloves mighty dirty lately, mmm?"

"Gift?" Guy's eyebrows shrunk into a furrow as his leather tightened to protect his heart from whatever was to come. His stubbled jaw slacked to the right. The Sheriff waggled a finger in command to follow and, like a well trained poodle, Guy obliged. The duo sauntered down an open corridor that framed the garden; their height difference was striking, and yet both men were filled with equal hate that could halt anyone.

"Tell me, are you still upset about that whole Marian thing?" Vesey waved off the words with a casual air. The breath, however, was beaten from Gisborne's lungs with a board as his body shut down momentarily. His stride fell back to his boss but his mind did not. Marian Knighton, the girl he loved but the personality he despised, the beauty he craved with the attitude he spat back, the one who abandoned him to live in the forest with his nemesis. It had been months since Marian had run off with Robin of Locksley but the rejection still pained his nerves.

"She is an outlaw now." came the masking answer to his humanity.

"Yes, well, I think I have something that will cheer you up," the Sheriff chuckled, "I mean, after all, you do have a thing for brunettes, don't you?"


	2. Don't Think I Want You Here

The wooden wheels of the carriage ricocheted between rock to pothole and back again as they drew near the castle gates in northern England. Mustard yellow curtains sheltered the windows, leaving nothing to see in the courtyard of the castle except the mystery and giddiness surrounding Vesey and his men. All except for Gisborne, that is; he donned the scowl of sheer dislike for this whole situation. The concept of this girl, this wife that was supposed to come out, left such bitterness in his mouth he nearly foamed and vomited. Guy had been swallowed so deeply by his mental anguish and struggle that he could see no depths deeper than where he sat. Now, though, he saw that he was not about to have it any easier. On the bright side, he thought, he wouldn't have to worry about buttering up any more women for his own pleasures.

The car rolled to a halt as the horses thankfully rested after their trek through the woods and streets of this land. The driver, too, seemed worn, but he was living up to his paycheck by dismounting and swinging open the door for the Italian diplomat Vesey had seen but weeks ago. The men shook hands and greeted one another with a plastic front. Guy pretended to watch, but he was too busy shoveling down his burning curiosity. The whole matter of his future seemed unreal, as did she, but he had to know it was actually written. He had to see her face to imagine this could really happen to him. His concerns were torn between the reality that Vesey cared for him only as a game piece, that the last time marriage was in his sights he was publicly humiliated, and that she could possibly be the most unattractive token disposed of to England. All of these felt as sturdy as Marian's punch at the altar.

Agonizingly the Sheriff droned on in his usual manner but, as the sun began to heat the soil for the day, Gisborne could finally pay full attention to the girl in the carriage. The Italian negotiator clicked open the silver handle to the door and allowed it to glide to the left, exposing a step. The deep yellow curtain was also swept aside as the soon to be Lady Gisborne emerged. Dressed in blood red, the petite girl was helped out and into her stride. Guy stood up taller and popped out his chin while analyzing her slim body. Her skin was milky and smooth with only a hint of the rich olive her father boasted. Her face was tall and round and framed by brunette ringlets tumbling down her back, all of which complimented the brilliant emeralds she had for eyes. The rose lips that formed a meek smile were as soft and curved as her body. Once she approached, Guy could tell that not only did she only come up to his shoulders, but she was clearly as uncomfortable with it all as he was.

"Sir Guy of Gisborne," Vesey's new friend announced with vigor, "I present you Giuliana Elisa Brambati, your wife." The pair cringed a bit at the phrase and locked eyes for the first time. Both were displaying a level of scrutiny over the other, formulating opinions and trying to find something to love before they even said a word. As moments passed they stretched, yanked to extension like hours, before the man in black and his girl in red. Eventually as the sun clicked down festivities broke out alongside drinks, snacks, and dancing. Gisborne, though, remained as a statue on the fringe of this celebration. He was not in combat over feelings; in fact, his heart and mind were both trying to whip up an emotion over it all.

The setting sun clicked down into a pink sky as a signal that the party was tapering to a close. It had all been a blur to Vesey's henchman, so he didn't particularly mind. The crowd in the courtyard thinned out as rumors over Gisborne's future flooded the civilan streets just outside his gates. Across the way and seated on the steps sat Giuliana, alone, as she had been throughout the day, catching Guy's attention. She watched as he set down his goblet and waltzed over, prideful, tall, and hard. She knew he was attempting to just get it over with; after all, she felt the identical sensation in her stomach. It was one of dread and excitement. He placed himself a good foot away and averted his gaze for a moment before seating himself. Soon the crystal blue eyes that usually held so much anger floated up with half-hearted kindness.

"Lady Giuliana."

"Sir Guy." She glanced off, breaking the stare, before looking back with the stiff awkwardness that stained the oxygen around them.

"I trust your travels were pleasant, Giuliana."

"Okay," she suddenly burst in, "This will not work if you keep calling me by my full name. Liana, please." Her shining jewel tone eyes pleaded to him with a fatigue that her psyche had sketched over the past week. Gisborne pursed his lips and nodded.

"You sound English." he changed the subject, sweeping a hand through his hair. God how they both despised being here.

"I was tutored by a man from London all my life. Always wanted to come, but not like this." she rolled her eyes with a huff. She seemed solidly unapologetic.

"I hope you don't believe I want you here." Guy shot back with a laugh.

"Oh really? I'm only twenty one and unmarried, what's your explanation then, huh?"

"Why should I have to explain myself to you? You're just some girl who is worth no more than a bargaining chip to her family."

"Aw yeah, you must really be loved, too, mate." Liana spat, her slim arms folding across her chest. A fury brewed within Gisborne and swirled under his leather shell. This woman implanted an itch in his muscle tissue that led him to nearly storm away; he had not been this aggravated by a woman since his last wedding. In fact, Marian's flaws seemed far more luxurious that this Italian's attitude. Suddenly she placed a hand on his knee and turned back to face him. Strings of rounded hair dripped over her shoulder as her eyes gazed emotionally into his own facial barrier. Her round chin tilted up slightly to see him and, in this moment, Guy was frozen in the realization of her beauty and femininity.

"I know you must be uncomfortable here." Gisborne heard himself mutter. None of his irritation had evaporated, but he had to hand it to her, she knew how to hypnotize him.

"My apologies, really. My tongue gets the better of me all the time, Sir Guy."

"Guy," he answered, "Just call me Guy." His stubble parted for a small grin as she reciprocated it.

"I feel like they just want to have a reason to celebrate for themselves, not for me." Liana sighed as she watch the last trickle of guests slink out before the gate fell back into its dormant blockade.

"People will never care about what you want or feel over their own whims," he bitterly said, "believe me."

"Well we will just have to talk foul about them together, won't we?" Liana smiled again. A youthful radiance gleamed from her round cheeks. Guy laughed with sincerity. Their amused faces did not fade as the forced couple gazed into each other's eyes. Perhaps it would not be so bad, they imagined, if they kept a sense of humor among them.


	3. Autumn Afternoon

Thanks for stopping in! Please, please, please don't forget to drop a review in the comment box below! It is sincerely appreciated. I love knowing how these tales come across to other people!

How long, he wondered. How long did each cell of his brain have to endure the crushing weight of Vesey before he could rise above his private cloud of hell? Guy had spent half of his drawn out life under the Sheriff's thumb, squirming for recognition, leaping through hoops of physical and emotional anguish, all for the shards and scraps of hope for success. What was success? Feeling that his leader was proud; knowing that upon his death, Gisborne would rule Nottingham himself. There were many times he felt the tug in his stomach that he had gone to far, given up too much, released so much of himself to Vesey that Guy was but a shell. Here, though, he drew the line. And yet Gisborne watched himself perform the dance moves on cue, finding his breakfast spent with none other than his bride to be.

Liana, too, found herself drowned in thought but with a much less readable expression. She felt written in as a character to some sick and twisted play with England as its stage, plot lined out by an unseen man, the consequences effecting no one but her. She delicately placed slices of apple into her mouth with eyes dead set on the table. The man in black shifted his feet, reclined in his chair, and watched her from across the meal. Liana drifted up to stare back. His jaw was strong and shaded in an incoming beard, his striking blue eyes cradled in a soft bed of wrinkles. Giuliana was hesitant to admit that these minute crow's feet were magnetically attracting to her. She had no doubt he was a handsome man; her heart tried to break free from its steady trot at his physique. And yet he acted so frozen, so apathetic, so stern. Liana feared she would be stuck to a man with no words.

"So, Sir Guy. I suppose we are to become acquainted this afternoon."

"If you wish." he cocked his head a bit. Underneath the shell of armor and hardened hide resided a soft and molten center; this sweet middle created a twinge that evolved into mild guilt for his cold shoulder. His day could be much worse, after all, than having to chat with a beautiful girl.

"So then, why don't we go see what Nottingham is all about?" Liana stood and went over to him, tracing her fingers across his back as she glided towards the exit. Once her petite body reached the door frame she leaned onto it with a modeling pose and enticing smirk. Her fiery desire to stir up some trouble drew Gisborne from his seat and over to her, escorting the guest out to the courtyard.

As the pair approached the large wooden doors to the exit their skin felt the breath of slowly chilling air seeping through the edges. Outside, the rush of crisp autumn flushed up with the sounds of the city. Fall had just begun, and so did Giuliana. She proceeded down the time worn steps a beat ahead of her betrothed with a youthful skip she hoped would wake Guy up. As she strutted beneath the gate and into Nottingham, though, he couldn't help but be weighed down by a scent that this would be a bit like babysitting.

Through the swirling scents and sounds of market day hung fabrics for sale, food at the cost of a pence, and merchants in a vocal duel for attention. Liana beamed a grin at everyone and ran her hands over everything she could. The fabrics and the rings put a lull in her progression before she continued along. Many of the booth workers kept themselves low and quiet; seeing Gisborne hovering left them with little to say. As he and Liana swept through streets voices would hush and conversations would freeze. Sometimes it was even as if the wind paused for his scowl. Sir Guy, of course, felt a thrill from the surge of power he drew out of it all. His Italian visitor, however, brushed it off completely.

They soon wound up at the fringes of the city where towering stone sealed all around Nottingham. Through the entrance lay fields that stretch into woods, which Guy could care less about. He was clearly expected to follow Giuliana, though, as she kept her pace out of the city line with no word.

"Where do you think you are headed?" Guy inquired with an edge of impatience. They had just crossed the short wooden bridge of Nottingham over into a golden field lined by coloring trees and shrubs. Giuliana whipped around quickly and dipped her head to the side for a moment.

"I thought England was supposed to be beautiful," she explained with a thoughtful expression, "Inside there it's all stone and straw, beggars and sellers. Where's the grass? The air? You can't tell me you don't just like to while away an afternoon in a field of flowers, Guy."

"No," he raised his eyebrows, "I don't. Some of us are busy and important people."

"I'm too busy enjoying my life to be busy." she answered before extending her hand. Her round cheeks perked up for a shy smile as Gisborne remained still, "Ugh, men." Liana rolled her eyes and proceeded out into the amber scene. The leather man glanced back almost regretfully to the city. The things she had said and, of course her headstrong attitude, commanded his brain to open the box of all of his memories with Marian. Her love for nature, the independence. Maybe they would be quite alike enough for him to care for her. Giuliana certainly lent more smiles to him in the past day than he had see on Lady Knighton in their whole relationship. He shook his head at the thought that he could even refer to it as a relationship. A sweep of wind carried the smell of tumbling red leaves that revived Guy from his epiphany.

A full kilometer ahead, Liana slid her small feet softly into a wide patch of flowers that swayed in the breeze. Carefully she sat herself down and gingerly leaned back until she lay completely still in the field. Gisborne trudged to her and stood, weight shifted to his left hip, and folded his arms.

"So this is what you consider bonding then?" he icily remarked. Liana did not bother to open her eyes, but she rolled her head so that her face pointed to him.

"Sit down you grouch." she answered. Several seconds later he gave in and crouched beside the girl in blue. Around her petite body stood dozens upon dozens of white catchflies that nestled vibrant purple autumn crocuses and boasted their fresh scent. Guy considered that this would be a breathtaking scene for a painting.

"This is how you spend your afternoons?"

"Did you grow up here, Guy?"

"Locksley," he gave after a long breath was let out into the atmosphere, "but still Nottinghamshire, yes."

"I was raised in Venezia. Gorgeous city, but too many straight laced blokes."

"You must have had suitors, you're…" Guy caught himself before complimenting her beauty, "old enough by now."

"Not after I told them what I think of them!"

"Oh? So what do you think of me, then?" he shifted his weight as her emerald eyes opened up to grin at him.

"I think you're handsome and intelligent. I think you are ambitious, but far too cautious. I think you need to let you enjoy yourself."

"Please, you've only known me a day."

"Well, we will just see if I'm wrong then." She shut her eyes as he scoffed. Silence drifted through the field.

"You understand we are to be wed two months from today. You must know that I expect you to live up to the duties of a wife."

"And I expect you to be a good husband, too, you know."

"For example, a good wife knows to hold her tongue." he bit.

"A good husband values his wife's opinion." She suddenly stared into him, budging only as much as a boulder, meeting his tone. A cheeky grin flashed on her face before she laughed. "I want to know you, Guy. I don't care about what a town has to see or what a job title looks like, I want to see you. I want to know you and who you want to be. Let's drop all this rubbish." He swallowed hard and focused again on the shooting towers of the castle on the skyline. Perhaps he was being too closed off to her. After all, they would have to be together, why not make it as little dreadful as possible.

Later that afternoon Giuliana and Guy moseyed back through Nottingham to return home, repeating their dirt marked steps through the market square. She slowed yet again to visually drink in all the merchandise when Gisborne stopped altogether.

"You like something?" he inquired. Liana felt her eyes draw directly to a silver ring that had been stationed among many other precious stones.

"I'm a sucker for sapphires." she chuckled, feeling a push of forced guilt for stopping him over only wishful thinking. Next to the jewelry, Guy laid down a small pile of gold. The seller, of course, was hesitant to take it. Gisborne immediately took up the ring, admiring the deep navy stone that gleamed along its rounded sides, before looking into Giuliana's stare.

"A good husband has duties, too. I think an engagement ring is one of them." For the first time he reached his gloved hand and touched her palm, raising her hand. Like a pair of schoolchildren they beamed at each other as he slipped the adornment onto her slender finger. For the rest of the march to the castle, he did not let her hand out of his own.


End file.
